


We Don't Need to Talk

by IdrisSmith



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Sherlolly - Freeform, finally posting this here eight months later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 17:08:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12237123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdrisSmith/pseuds/IdrisSmith
Summary: The aftermath of the call.





	We Don't Need to Talk

**Author's Note:**

> Would you believe me if I told you I literally forgot I never posted this here?

He was the last person she wanted to see. In fact, she had rather not open the door when he had knocked instead of picking the lock whenever he came around. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had a key - she made one for him after the fourth time he broke into her flat, but Sherlock was who he was and for whatever reason that made perfect sense to him, picking the lock to her front door was a habit to him.  
  
No, she would much rather _not_ see him. However, against her better judgement, after five minutes of insistent knocks that might have woken up the whole flat, Molly moved from the spot she was standing, reaching out to pull the door open. It was best to deal with whatever that came with Sherlock as fast as she could stand. Like ripping off a plaster from a wound. Only hers haven’t healed and she very much doubt it ever will.  
  
“What do -” Molly didn’t quiet finish her question as Sherlock pushed through the door - pushed against her, really, kissing her roughly as he goaded her back into the safety of her flat. Her mind whirled and confusion soared as she tasted his lips on hers. It was softer than she had imagined, much softer than she thought any man’s lips could feel like.  
  
She felt his hands moved, cupping her face while he kicked he door closed absentmindedly. Part of her wanted to push him away, the rational part that needed answers as to why he had shown up in the middle of the night, kissing her like she was his air and he was about to drown.  
  
“Love you,” he mumbled over and over again between kisses, not letting her out of his reach, pulling her even closer with each breath taken and by the time Molly felt her back against a wall (she really wasn’t thinking straight and couldn’t make of where they were in the flat), they were both breathless.  
  
“I love you,” he repeated, panting against her. “That wasn’t a lie.”  
  
Molly was at lost. Her eyes were wide as saucers and she blinked up at him. They were close and she could feel his heart throwing assaults against his rib cage.  
  
“S-say that again,” she managed, though she wasn’t sure if she needed to hear the words again to assured herself that she was not dreaming or because she already knew it was real and it was freeing to hear him say it to her.  
  
“I love you,” Sherlock repeated without hesitation. “I love you, Molly Hooper.”  
  
She didn’t need to hear more, whatever it was, what had happened, she decided it can wait until morning comes. Sherlock was there and he was in love with her, she would be damned if she insisted on talking when she could very well continue kissing.  
  
Kiss him she did and he kissed her back with just as much enthusiasm as she and for a moment before her lips took his, she could’ve sworn he had sighed in relief. They need to talk, yes. But that can wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [my tumblr](https://whclocked.tumblr.com) for my ramblings that never made it here...


End file.
